Frosting
by Phantom-Thief-Neko
Summary: Chrono Hooves (Doctor Hooves) is forced to relive the same few days leading up to daughter Dinky's birthday again and again, uncovering more about the mystery of Grim/Dark. The first arc covers the infamous "Cupcakes."


**AN: I was listening to someone read cupcakes yet again and they mentioned how the number system was interesting, but sadly no one ever elaborated on it. So I decided to do so. I've read the original work and found it sort of silly, as though it was trying too hard to be shocking or scary (not as much as Rainbow Factory in my mind, but that can wait for another AN) and I'm not saying what I've written is better writing compared to it, but that's just my opinion.**

**This isn't just a retelling, it has little to do with original work apart from the premise Pinkie is a killer. Rainbow Dash will not/has not been killed in this story.**

**Warnings, I feel it fair to put out some warnings. 1) if you REALLY like the original story and despise anyone using the premise outside of the "cannon", probably not the best for you. 2) There are OCs and fan interpretations of background characters in this story that may or may not match your personal interpretation. (There are no Alicorns, but it's good to give fair warning). 3) This story contains a pairing, it isn't the main focus of the story, but it's still there. 4) There will be firearms, toilets and other things that "haven't been in the show" yet. If you are one of the people who completely disregard the possibility of something's credibility if it hasn't been in the show yet, you have been warned. and 5) there is a chance of stupidly long Authors Notes. I apologize.**

**If a pony is mentioned who has been in the show (even if I've changed the name), I'll put a link to a picture of them after their introduction. If not, assume they are an OC. Thank you for listening to this long boring rambling. Now on to the story.**

_His breathing quickens as the lamp is kicked out and the small chamber is plunged into darkness. He tries to collect this thoughts, remember, keep calm and listen for their movement, but that's hard to do as gurgled shrieking of the killer's victim resonated in the stone cell, accompanied by their kicking and thrashing. Cautiously he advanced, ears pricked and his grip on the small pistol tightened. Suddenly, a loud laugh from behind caused him to twist too quickly as his legs were knocked out from under him. He landed on his front, legs splayed out and gun knocked far out of his reach. Before he could correct himself, a weight leapt onto his back. _

_"Oh detective," a voice breathed into his ear as the assailant sat on his back, pinning down his limbs, "we have so much fun together don't we?" The question is followed by another high pitched manic laugh, "We could have so much more."  
He tried to struggle.  
"I'd love to play with you, detective," he could hear her smiling, "I really, really would."  
She smashed his face into the concert floor, knocking him into a daze.  
"But your number hasn't been drawn yet. And rules are rules." Another loud laugh, it sounds further away, yet it echoes through his head.  
"rules are rules"  
"Your number hasn't been drawn yet."_

_"Detective... detective..."_  
"Detective?"  
Detective Turner Hooves ( wiki/File:Dr._Hooves_pegasus_variant_ ) jolted upright from the desk he'd been slumped over. His wings cramped, they always did after he'd slept in the cheap fabric chairs they had at the station. He ran a hoof through his mane and looked around, half lidded. Turner hadn't slept or eaten properly for weeks, perhaps even months. Every time he tried to sleep, he'd relive those past events. He'd gotten to the point where that was the intention. Close his eyes just to go over the scene again. That voice. The pony it belonged too. And the numbers. What where the numbers? But these things never got answered. As every time it ended with him scurrying around a pitch black stone chamber before having his face slammed into the concrete ground. He touched his nosed lightly, it was slightly off centre with a kink.

"Detective?" Knocked out of his though he looked towards the door, which had been opened a crack. An orange maned young mare, wearing a civilian officer uniform was peaking in. She seemed scared, nervous, Turner remembered, she was a new transfer. He waved for her to come in.  
"Who sent you to bother me?," Turner said looking towards the clock, the only indicator of time in the windowless office.  
"Sh...she...Ms. Shield," the officer stuttered, "She said, to tell you to go to Conference room number 2."

Shield? Really? He hadn't done anything that could earn a grilling. He hadn't mentioned anything about...well anything that she could complain about. What had she said the last time she had threatened to fire him? _"I don't want to hear you even think the word, cupcake unless it is followed by 'was delicious wasn't it?' Understand Detective?". _

"I don't know why," the officer chimed in stopping Turner's thoughts again, "she seemed angry though. So I'd be quick." Then she left.

"What took you so long, Turner?" Shield, a tall, heavy set, silver earth pony, snapped as Turner entered. She turned away from the one way glass pane, "Isn't your special talent being punctual?"  
"I get where I'm needed, when I'm needed," Turner stated flatly, gently kicking the door shut, "Hello to you as well."  
"You don't look good, Turner, you been sleeping much?" The mare looked down at him, perhaps there was a tinge of concern in her normally harsh, deep voice. Turner's appearance made it difficult to not be cornered for him, messy forelock and crest, dark circles under dull unfocused eyes, a kinked nose and his cutie mark, once glossy and bright, lost everything apart from a very mild sheen under the harsh halogen lamps of the conference room. He was clearly a pony in a bad way.

"More than enough," Turner said, then, "What did you call me for?"  
Shield gestured towards to the glass and they both peered through. Sitting one end of the steel bolted table was a blue unicorn stallion. He kept his eyes low, looking every everywhere but the one way glass, his pale yellow mane shifted in and out of the glow of the lone hanging light bulb. This was an intimidation technique borrowed from officers in Los Pegasus, keeping the suspect in a darker room to play off their fears.

"He's been brought in for charges of pick pocketing and petty thefts."  
"And you need me to question him over that? Seems pretty open and shut. I know you've been giving me easy cases since I got back-," Turner referred to the complete lack of homicide cases sent his way and discouragement from pursuing anything remotely related to the cupcakes case.

The cupcakes case, referred to the crimes of "The Cupcake Killer" a pony (now confirmed to be a mare), who abducted, then killed her victims in a ritualistic manor before turning them into baked goods and leaving them at various bakeries. Turner as well as another stallion named Blue Bonnet ( . /_cb20110709210523/mlp/images/b/ba/Blue_ ) had been assigned the case. Blue had taken leave shortly after Turner's encounter with the killer and hadn't returned since.

Shield silenced him, by simply holding a Polaroid in front of his face. "Look familiar?"

Taking the image, Turner inspected it, glancing over at the stallion behind the glass every now and again. The image showed ponies crowding a busy street in some sort of celebration, behind them was an alley way (that led to the underground chamber where Turner had confronted the killer), and peaking out of the alley way was-  
"He was there..."  
"That photo was taken at 10pm. 45 minutes before the reinforcements showed up."

Turner stayed silent staring at the photograph, the main focus was clearly the crowd, so the blue unicorn peering out of the alley way was blurred and not all that clear. It wasn't enough to hold him on, or reignite interest in the case.

But if the same unicorn sitting in the conference room now, was the same one who'd left that alley way, only minutes before Turner had shown up, there had to be a link.

"You called me down here to put me back on the case?"  
"I called you down here to give you 5 minutes to put your mind at rest," Shield stated, bringing her cool grey eyes to meet his, "The case is closed Turner. Since that night, whoever they were, that pony has disappeared into the ether. Most likely killing that gang boss ended up with her own arrange demise. This guy could be an informant, or a scout, who handed her in. Hear it from him. Settle your mind, then go home and get some rest," she turned her head and sighed, feeling her words were falling on deaf ears, "Just...five minutes. Okay? I'll go and make sure no pony else comes in here or over hears." She strode out.

Turner entered the room and the blue unicorn looked at him briefly before looking down into his lap. Turner took the seat across and placed the photo on the table.  
"So Blueshift is it?" The stallion didn't respond. Turner took in a deep breath then exhaled, "Why is it unicorns always name their kids after space and stuff? Do they think that there that special, all of them going to be astronomers or great magic users or something?" Turner smiled quickly then continued, "I mean look at you, got this big important, fancy, smart sounding name like, "Blueshift", and look, you've been arrested for petty theft. Petty theft, even the name is unimportant. 'Petty'," Turner said the word again looking over for a reaction, Blueshift looked as though he swallowed and kept fiddling in his lap. "What does 'Blue Shift' even mean? Is it even a real term. I assumed it was, sounds about right, pretentious enough for a unicorn name. But I suppose your parents could have just as easily made it up-"  
"It means a shift in spectrum indicating the object is moving towards the observer," The unicorn quickly and purposefully stated, adding quietly, "wouldn't expect a horse-fly like you to know."

Ignoring the last remark Turner said, "So you can talk," he pushed the Polaroid under Blueshift's nose, who had fixed Turner with a glare, "Look at this."  
"A picture of a parade," he glanced down and then back, "I'm being held for theft charges I don't see what this has to do with it, Detective."

"Look in the background," Turner instructed.

"There's a blurry blue pony walking out of an alley way," Blueshift shrugged.

"Why?"  
"If it's a stallion, soliciting some services?" Blueshift rolled his eyes and looked away.

"It was you, Blueshift. The stallion leaving the alley way was you."  
"So now it's a crime to leave an alley?"  
"If something important has happened there, yes."  
"Enlighten me then, Detective. What importance does this alley have?"

"This image was taken on the night when the Bulls won the Cup," Tuner began getting tired of the unicorn's inability to co-operate, "You know what else happened that night? In that alley? Underneath that restaurant? The Cupcake Killer got away leaving me with a smashed in face, two broken wings and a heck of a lot of blood to clean up!" Turner stated leaning over the table, speaking with the most energy he'd had in a long time, "So tell me why you were leaving that alley, minutes before I showed up and an hour or so after he'd set to-"

"She."  
"Pardon me?"  
Blueshift shook himself as though trying to collect himself, "She, the 'Cupcake Killer' was a mare."  
"Oh so you do know."  
"That's pretty common knowledge."  
"Not outside this station. Not outside of me," Turner stated. Blueshift went quiet, fearing that he would refuse to talk again and conscious they were running out of time, Turner said, "Look, we don't have enough evidence, if any to hold you on this. Theft, yes. Accomplice to this murder case, no. The case has been closed since that night when she supposedly disappeared off into nowhere. And the chief here has no reason to want to reopen it. She told me to talk to you to confirm that she's dead or 'taken care of'. So it'll stop haunting my nightmares," he slouched back in the chair. There was a moment of silence.

Finally, "I don't know where, if anywhere she is now," Blueshift said quietly, staring at the image, "And I didn't know what she was doing that night. I intended to meet a friend in that alleyway to go join the parade. When he didn't show, I left," he continued quietly, "I did know her before, though." Turner sat up slightly. "But that was a really long time ago." Blueshift, looked up at Turner for a moment, then back at the table. The five minutes Shield had promised him was all but over, so Turner decided to cut in and get the information he needed. "What are the numbers?"  
"What?" Blueshift looked taken back by what appeared to be a complete change in conversation topic.

"What are the numbers? Did she ever mention them? Did she ever talk about them? Is it code for something?"  
"I..I'm not sure what you me-" Blue shift flinched as Turner raised his voice again.  
"When she had me, pinned in that cellar, she said that the reason she wasn't going to 'play with me' was because my number hadn't been drawn, yet. What is my number and why do I have one?! I know you know!" Turner punctuated the statement by stomping his hoof on the table. The sound reverberated throughout the space. Closing his wings again, Turner coughed into his chest, quietly, more controlled he added, "It's written on your face. The way you flinch and turn away when I mention them. It. Whatever it is. You know. And the least you can do is at least explain it to me."

Blueshift looked down, then sighed. "Okay," he said flatly, "It's a long story, and it might not even be right," he looked up. His gaze was earnest and open, "Just remember, anything we did. We did it because we had to survive. Nopony wanted to, nopony enjoyed it," he spoke as though he was an old stallion, speaking his last confession, dropping his gaze again he added, "not even her."

_We went on a hot-air balloon ride. There was six of us including the pilot. Cerulean Flash, a pegasus, Perfect Finish and Merry Giver, two earth ponies, myself and her. At the time, she told me her name was Cotton Candy, I believed it, she was sweet enough for sure. We ran into some complications during the flight, the pilot, suffered a heart attack, and without a pilot we crashed into a cliff face. _

_The land was a barren expanse of rock. From the crash Flash had severely broken a wing, hell we could see the bone, so he couldn't fly out for help. There was no signs of life, no plants, no animals and a sheer drop of hundreds of feet all around. We were trapped. The first few days were hard, the sun beat down during the day and the wind howled during the night. We were hungry, cold, hurt and scared. Then one day. I dunno how long, and I dunno who said. Somepony brought up the fact that...that ponies are essentially food. Of course, begrudgingly, the first idea was to eat the pilot, he'd died already. However after pulling him from the wreckage we found we'd left it too long. Decomposition had taken place, eating him would just make us sicker, weaker._

_Help would come soon, help is coming, somepony reasoned, it'd be better if they rescued 4 ponies, than none because we all starved. It was logical to sacrifice one of us for the greater good. But how could we choose?_

_That's...that's where the numbers came in. Everypony was given a number. 1 through 5. Don't ask me why we had a die. Merry Giver had it I think, it was a present for somepony back home. I remember it well, bright red ruby studded with beautiful clear diamonds. It's strange isn't it, something so beautifully crafted essentially dictated who lived and who died._

_At first it didn't work very well, nopony could trust anypony else. When somepony rolled the die, they tried to purposefully roll a number that wasn't theirs, or a six (A six meant the next pony would have to roll), passing off the responsibility to somepony else. Sometimes when it was already rolled, they tried to blow it, stomp their hoof effect it some way to save themselves. That's when she stepped in. She gave the die to me and said if I rolled it with my magic nopony else could effect it. I asked what if I used my magic to cheat, she replied because I brought it up, it just proved she could trust me. _

_And so the system began, since I rolled the die I was saddled with the responsibility of, well, the murder. She chose to help me, she said that if my number ever came up, she'd have to kill me. Those were the rules._

_Days passed into weeks, weeks into months. We only rolled the die when we were starving, when we were moments away from death. Some days when we laid there, waiting for time to pass, waiting to be rescued, we thought about what we had agreed to do, what we had done. Some of us prayed that our number would come up, so we could get out of it. Not have to live with it. _

_Eventually, help did come. It was coming to a time when we'd have to roll again, and it was just me and her. and they showed up, a group of pegasi, they'd been practicing their routines in a patch of sky with little or no traffic, when one flew up and saw us...I think her name was Hawk-eye _

_They never asked what we did, or what happened to the others. They took us to the nearest hospital, and my recovery was a blur._

_But lying out there, knowing the only way to survive was to eat somepony else. You either found something to believe in, or realized there was nothing. _

"She found the numbers," Blueshift finished, "I dunno if she thought they were sentient and were purposefully avoiding her, or what, but that's all I know."

"Five minutes is up, Turner, go home."


End file.
